Rake: A Dark Boston Irish Mafia Romance (The Carneys Book 1)

by Sophie Austin

  “Benjamin, no. None of that should’ve happened,” I blurt out. “He laughed. He fucking laughed at me the whole time. I’m glad he’s dead.”

  Benjamin’s nod is barely perceptible. I wish he hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen that.

  But life is full of terrible things we can’t protect our loved ones from, no matter how much we’d like to.

  “If Finn didn’t send me that note, who did?” Benjamin asks.

  Jamilah and I exchange glances. “I’m guessing his father,” I sigh. “He gets back at me for my work with his staff, and any consequences fall on Finn.”

  Benjamin is familiar with terrible fathers. It doesn’t faze him.

  I want to tell him more. Tell him that I love him, and that just because some people might be willing to hurt you like you’re nothing, it doesn’t mean you’re nothing. It’s something I’m having to fight to believe myself. But I’m groggy from the painkillers, from the stress of the night, and I can’t manage to keep my eyes open very long.

  At some point the commotion of people entering the room wakes me up again.

  I see a stunning woman and a big handsome man staring down at me. The woman is slender and tall, with strawberry blonde hair, and the man is all bulky muscle, with unruly dark hair and arresting blue eyes.

  “Ms. Saunders?” the woman asks.

  “Yes?” I struggle to sit up.

  She rushes over and takes my hand.

  “I’m Siobhan Carney. This is my partner Kieran.”

  He offers a cheerful wave that’s out of place in the situation.

  I don’t know how to feel about Finn’s sister being in my room. I’m not thinking straight. But this is important. I care about Finn, and I want to know how he’s doing.

  “My brother,” she says. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “She’s his emergency contact,” Kieran offers. “Life’s full of interesting surprises.”

  I’m grateful that Finn laid out some context for me or this exchange would’ve left me confused.

  She shoots a glare at him and he gives a whipped puppy look that makes it easy to forget what a big man he is.

  “The doctor said he was shot?”

  I take a deep breath and tell her what happened in the park.

  “Someone set us up, Ms. Carney. Me, my brother, and yours.”

  She looks stricken, all the color draining from her lovely face. Clearly she knows who was behind the setup, arriving at the right conclusion as her mind quickly sorts the facts. But Finn said their father loves Siobhan, and I imagine she’s had a very different experience than his with James Carney.

  Kieran slips his arm around her waist.

  “Are you badly hurt?” she asks, trying to hold back a sob.

  I don’t really know. I haven’t been awake long enough to talk to a doctor. I look over at my brother, but he’s passed out asleep in a chair. I turn to Jamilah, and she waits for an indication of consent. I give a small nod.

  “Fractured ribs and contusions. Concussion. You’ll be overnight for observation because of what you’ve been through previously.”

  I can tell she wants to say more about that, but she doesn’t.

  “Is there any word on Finn? Is he…?”

  “The bullet lodged in his collar bone. They had to take it out and there was a lot of bleeding.”

  Kieran pulls Siobhan into a hug when she can’t hold her tears back anymore. He strokes her hair, whispering something into her ear that I can’t hear. She nods, sniffling.

  “We’re going to wait for word on her brother,” he says. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

  “I’m sorry.” Siobhan is still sobbing. “I’m so sorry my father did this.”

  So she did figure it out. The Carney family dynamics are astounding.

  “Finn told me how much he likes you,” she continues through her tears. “He’s never said that about anyone.”

  “Babe,” Kieran says, stroking her hair. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

  Her eyes are rimmed with red, and I think she’s grieving for several different reasons too.

  “I like him, too,” I say. “Will you let me know when he’s out?”

  She nods, Kieran leading her out of the room.

  “All of Carney’s kids are absurdly good-looking.” Jamilah says, shaking her head. “Don’t know how he managed that when he’s such a rancid piece of shit.”

  I laugh, and it feels good to know I still can.

  Jamilah stays for a while longer, then heads back home to her daughter. Benjamin sleeps in the chair next to my bed. I wish I could sleep anywhere like he can. He doesn’t want to go home, and I don’t blame him. I awkwardly type up an email on my phone and send it to my boss and send a separate one to Alannah Brecht at the Globe.

  I doze off for a while, and stir when I hear someone come in. It’s Kieran.

  “Hey,” he says. “Finn’s out of surgery. He’s going to be fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t like Finn,” Kieran blurts out. “I mean, I didn’t like him. My family and the Carneys don’t exactly get along.”

  So I heard.

  “He’s always been a smug, slimy creep.” The edge to Kieran’s voice softens. “But I love Siobhan and I trust her. And she says something big’s changed with him over the past week. Little Birdie said so, too. Bridget, I mean.”

  Interesting nickname. If Kieran knew what Finn’s father had done to him, I wonder if he’d be so quick to judge. He seems like a kind man, so I’m guessing not, but I still bristle at his harsh words even though I know it’s not his fault.

  “I’m guessing that has something to do with you.” Kieran shoots me a crooked grin. “And I heard the casino workers unionized today? That’ll fuck ol’ Jimbo right up. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

  I bark out a laugh at James Carney being styled as Jimbo.

  “It’s not easy,” Kieran continues, “being with someone whose family is such a goddamn mess. Though I guess Siobhan probably feels the same way about me.”

  “My family’s a mess, too. Well, my father, anyway.”

  “But she’s worth it.” He goes starry-eyed, and then grins sheepishly at me. “I’m not making any assumptions about you, but…Jesus, I’m running my mouth off. He’ll be out for the rest of the night, probably. But he’s okay. Have a good night, Sasha.”

  I thank him, and when I fall asleep again, I don’t have any bad dreams.

  I’m released from the hospital early the next morning and go to see Finn before I leave. He looks paler than normal. There are a bunch of people in his room, including his father, who stares blankly at me. My brother’s downstairs waiting for an Uber. I’m on my own.

  “Hey,” Finn says softly. “You okay?”

  I walk through the glut of people, ignoring his father, and reach for his hand.

  “I’m fine. Just a concussion and some cracked ribs and this.” I point to the bruises and lacerations on my face.

  He reaches up and strokes the one over my eyebrow. “We match.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “We do.”

  “Congratulations on the results of your election, Miss Saunders,” James says coolly. “I look forward to working with you.”

  “About that.” I squeeze Finn’s hand. “I’m afraid we’re going to ask for an intermediary given your history of retaliation against your employees. The janitor you threatened? He contacted my office and reported your coercion to find the name of the lead organizer on the staff side, whom you subsequently fired. We’ll hold off on a lawsuit if you agree to our terms. And you should, because if you don’t the Spotlight team from the Globe will be all over this, and I have one hell of a story to share with them.”

  The story I had shared with Alannah wasn’t quite sexy enough to publish as it is but serves a different purpose. I told her about Finn saving my brother’s life, which would strengthen his position in his family and allow for some distance from his manipulative fathe
r.

  If James Carney didn’t acquiesce, Finn would be spared some of the worst of the public opinion fallout. I’d given Alannah enough to be interested should I need to go with the nuclear option. Someone at the Globe will ask James for an interview, alerting him to the danger inherent in further harassment of me, my brother, his employees, and hopefully his son.

  All eyes in that room are on me.

  “And what terms are those, Miss Saunders?” His icy stare is meant to intimidate, but he’d forced me to kill a man last night. In self-defense, yes, but now it just makes his threats seem small and pathetic by comparison.

  A smile spreads across my face. “SWU 105 will only negotiate on behalf of Trinity’s staff with their steward and with Finn Carney. He saved my brother’s life last night. I see that as indelible proof of his commitment to justice. While as principal owner of the business, you’ll have final approval of any contract terms, we will not work directly with you in any capacity, as you’ve proven your inability to work with us in good faith.”

  A flush rises from under his collar, reaching all the way up his face. He’s livid.

  Good.

  A woman in the room sighs. “Jim, just take the deal. You’ve already wasted more than enough energy on this.”

  I wonder if that’s his wife. She looks younger than him, but in a way that looks like it’s from cosmetics and plastic surgery – and does little to hide her unhappiness.

  “Daddy,” Siobhan says. “Please?”

  James looks at his daughter, and his face changes completely. He loves her and my heart aches for Finn.

  “We’ll have our lawyers talk,” he says to me. “But I think we can arrange something.”

  “I’m very glad to hear that, sir.” I say. I turn back to Finn. “I’m going to be stepping down as the SWU representative for the Trinity staff. It’s been a pleasure working with you. My office will be in touch as soon as a new representative is selected.”

  He stares at me open-mouthed for a minute.

  “Goodbye, Finn. I hope you heal well and quickly.”

  “Yeah,” he says, his voice sounding rough. “Yeah, you too, Sasha.”

  He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he lets go of my hand. The silence in the room is suffocating. I need to leave, then.

  I walk past his family and head downstairs to meet my brother.

  21

  Finn

  Two weeks after I leave the hospital, my father asks me to come to our family home in Back Bay for Sunday dinner.

  It’s been a while since he’s invited me personally.

  My sisters greet me at the door—all three of them. Siobhan and Bridget fuss over me, Bridget nearly bursting into tears when she sees me in a sling.

  “It’s okay, honey.” I say. “I just have to wear it while the bone heals.”

  She looks up at the contusions on my face, and then nods, putting on a brave face. Catriona squeezes the back of my uninjured arm.

  “Pity you decided to go back to Dr. Smith instead of one of the young hot doctors at Mass General,” she says with a wink.

  My father appears behind my sisters and waves at me to follow him into his office. We haven’t talked since that last time I saw Sasha. When she’d told me I was the only one the staff would agree to work with.

  I had been so taken aback I didn’t know how to respond. And she’d walked out of that room, and I’d let her go without even saying thank you. Without telling her I was sorry for letting her get hurt. For what she had to do to P.J.

  P.J. was a known quantity to the police. The cops called me, and I assume Sasha, in for a perfunctory meeting. It wouldn’t go any further.

  Hamish had said he’d gotten what he deserved for breaking the code. He also wouldn’t do business with my family anymore, and I can’t say that I blame him. It feels disloyal to Sasha that I blame my father rather than Hamish for beating her. It’s hard to reconcile.

  Constantly, I find myself wondering how Sasha is doing. Is she still having nightmares? I haven’t been able to bring myself to call her. What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?

  I sit across from my father, our usual configuration.

  “I have to admit, Finn, I’m impressed,” he says. “I knew you were charming Miss Saunders, but to position yourself to be the liaison and get her out of the union game all together? I didn’t expect that kind of clever ruthlessness from you.”

  God. He would think that.

  He smiles proudly at me, and that familiar warmth bubbles in my chest. It feels good to bask in his praise.

  But it comes at too high a price.

  I have a choice here.

  Do I take my father’s praise and become like him, or do I be brave, like Sasha?

  “I wasn’t running a game,” I say. “I don’t know why she did that.”

  He laughs. “Oh, come on, Finn. You romanced it right out of her.”

  I don’t want him thinking of me and Sasha that way. Maybe that’s how it started, but I care about her and don’t want anyone to think I’m using her.

  “You set me up, Dad.” I say, quietly. “You set Hamish and P.J. on Benjamin Saunders using my name. And if I hadn’t found out, Benjamin would be dead. I’d be the one the cops came after.” I don’t mention that Sasha would hate me too, because it seems like such a stupid thing to say.

  “Nonsense,” my father says. “It happened exactly how I intended. You save the day and emerge heroic. Of course I didn’t intend the Saunders boy to die. Just wanted to scare them both, and it worked, didn’t it?”

  The lies this man tells himself. The scary part is that I think he’s convinced himself it’s all true. Not because I was shot, but because Siobhan had lost faith in him.

  The love of a good woman is an incredible motivator, I suppose.

  “I’m going to do what I think is right for us but also for our staff,” I say. “And that includes offering Jamilah King her job back. She probably won’t want it, but as a good faith gesture I want to make the overture.”

  He’s taken aback for a moment. “That’s probably a wise move.” I’m not sure if he actually agrees, but it’s irrelevant.

  “I’m not going to be your tool. I won’t waste my time spiting you anymore, but I’m not going to roll over and give you what you want if I don’t agree with you. Maybe I didn’t handle the incident with the Mathers’ daughter maturely, but I was seventeen and what you wanted from me was despicable.”

  I should’ve told him this years ago. My input is more valuable than he’s ever given me credit for.

  He sighs. “Finn, all I’ve ever wanted is for you to live up to your potential.”

  More bullshit. But I don’t expect anything else from him.

  “I’m going to start doing that,” I say. He won’t like it, because it’ll mean calling him on his poor decisions, but right now it looks like a truce. I’ll stay the course and do my best for the staff to honor Sasha’s work. When it comes time to pull the rug out from under my father, I won’t let them be collateral damage. I’ve learned too much from Sasha to let other people be hurt in the service of my revenge.

  I’m still getting that revenge, though. In time.

  “Good,” my father says. “I’m glad to hear that. And maybe if you put aside your womanizing ways you can finally find a nice girl to settle down with. Senator Kensington’s daughter Jessica is single.”

  But I’ve got my eye on someone else.

  I smile at my father and it goes without saying. He sighs and waves me out of his office.

  I join my siblings in the sitting room.

  “I thought Patrick would be the first one to get shot,” Callan says.

  “You’re normally so good with figuring out those odds.” I adjust my sling, and Bridget moves to get up.

  “Birdie, honey, sit down,” Catriona says. “He’s fine. You’re lucky it’s winter so you don’t have to forfeit at rugby.” She shoots me a wolfish smile.

  “So lucky,” I say.
/>   “What happened with the chick?” Patrick asks. “You get with her or what?”

  I turn to Callan. “Patrick said he’d call Dad ‘Jimbo’ if I could use my masculine charms to keep the union out of Trinity.”

  “We all see how that turned out,” Callan deadpans. “Still, the shades of red Dad would turn might be worth Patrick letting that one slip anyway. What do you say, big guy?”

  “I’ll hold it in reserve,” Patrick says. “Ugh, I don’t know why Mom insists on cooking. She hates doing it and she can’t cook anyway.”

  “I’ll see if she needs help.” I ease out of the chair and into the kitchen.

  My mother pokes at some horrifying-looking roast that’s boiling in a pot of water.

  “Oh, hi. Finn,” she says. “I have no idea why this won’t cook up.”

  The pot is too small and there’s no reason to boil a roast. It’s called a roast for a reason.

  “Let’s get it out of the water and into the oven.”

  “You’ve always been such a good cook.”

  I can’t do a lot with only one hand, but I help her salvage the meat.

  “Do you love Dad?” I ask.

  She nearly drops the spoon she’s holding. She’s working on wrecking some potatoes now. Jesus. It’s hard to wreck potatoes.

  “Of course I love your father. Why would you ask me a question like that?”

  Because I can’t ask if she loves me. Because I can’t understand why she let my father do what he did to me.

  She narrows her eyes at me for a minute. “Is it that union girl? She had a thing for you. I can tell. Wouldn’t be the first woman who fell for you against her best interest.”

  I flinch. “How could you say something like that?”

  “Women are looking for someone who can give them stability. Are you interested in settling down?” She pokes at a potato with the spoon. Water spills over the top of the pot and hisses as it makes contact with the gas flame below.

  “You know how I was raised,” I say.

  She presses her lips together. “What is wrong with these potatoes? I’m going to complain to the produce department.”

  I don’t move and she puts the spoon down. “We didn’t know what to do with you. You were too smart for your own good. We thought encouraging you to work toward seeking office would be a good use of your talents.”